Outtakes Of A Walking Mistake Read Online Free PDF Page A

I know we’re glamorous and whatever but get a grip.
    “Who knows? Maybe I’ll go bar-hopping one night,” I say.
    “Right on,” Eric winks. Hearing the grating sound of angst-rock radio, I turn to see the approaching headlights of Jenny’s car.
    Parking on the driveway, she quickly exits her cherry red vehicle and waves a DVD in the air. She dares not approach me though. Not with Eric by my side. “Let’s go, Bub,” she calls, clad in her new bell-bottoms. Through the darkness her blonde hair shines brighter than a thousand stars.
    “Be right there.”
    “Now, Tyler Morris!” she demands.
    Ok, Jenny’s pissed. Whenever she calls me by my first and last name it always means she’s pissed, but what the hell is her problem? I’m the one who should be mad. She’s late and I’m in the middle of entertaining a guest. Not for long though.
    When Jenny stomps her way to the front porch in a fit, Eric senses the tension and chooses to make an exit. “Well, I better jet,” he says, mounting his board. “Maybe we can hang soon.”
    Soon? No, I want to hang now. I want to do bad things with you, things bad boys do. Please, show me how to be a bad boy. I promise to take notes. “Uh, maybe we can do McDonald’s some night. They have this great meal deal now,” I say.
    “Tight. Sounds hella crazy,” Eric says, with a wink. “Now, go on. Take care of your friend. She looks upset.”
    “She’ll live,” I assure him.
    Then granting me a farewell smile, he coasts into the darkness.
    “Will you ever quit?” Jenny asks, as I meet up with her on the porch. “Maybe we can do McDonald’s,” she mimics, extending a limp wrist. “Jesus Christ, I’ll take you to McDonald’s when you get a new line.”
    This is jealous Jenny. This is the Jenny who doesn’t want me going out with a boy she’s already screwed. It’s one of her hang-ups. She can be so damn territorial. I don’t know why. Her affairs never last very long anyway. A day and a half, that’s how long she and Eric were an item. Wait? Is that right? That sounds a bit generous. Oh, I can’t remember. Jenny was stingy with the details. All she learned from their relationship is that you should never follow a boy behind a dumpster in a 7-11 parking lot. Whatever that means.
    “Why aren’t you saying anything?” Jenny asks, following me inside. “What? Are you mad at me?”
    “We were just talking,” I say, throwing up my arms.
    “Please, Eric Bryant doesn’t possess that skill. He’s out for one thing.” Grabbing me by the back of my shoulder, she spins me around, getting really serious. “Promise me, Bub. Promise me you’ll stay away from him. He’s shady.”
    “Fine, whatever,” I say, appeasing her.
    Then Jenny pats my head like I’m a good little pooch and pops Hope Floats in the DVD player before plopping down on the couch.
    I can’t believe this. First, she takes the motherly role, advising me on what boys to watch out for, and now she’s acting like dad, hogging up the whole freaking couch and toying with the TV remote, pumping up and down the volume. I tell you, I can’t deal with this. I can’t deal with the fact that she can have any boy she wants, and I can’t deal with the fact that I can’t. Now I’m supposed to sit in front of the TV and watch Harry Connick Jr. woo Sandra Bullock? I think not. I’m too envious of their relationship, and I’m too envious of Jenny. She has no idea what it’s like to go unnoticed.
    “Dear God, what’s wrong now?” Jenny says, motioning me to join her. Scrunching up my face, I feel like I might lose it, have a nervous breakdown and admit the hard truth: I’m a pathetic queer who wants a boyfriend in my life to feel validated. And yes, applause please, I hate myself for it. “Are you crying?” Jenny asks. She acts shocked. “Seriously, what’s crawled up your ass tonight?” Refusing to answer, I cover my watery eyes, refusing to let her witness my weakness. I know, I’m being